TeamReedBlog.2020

 I've said this before, but I don't think I can say it enough: I have amazing, awesome, wonderful, smart, forgiving, funny, lovely friends. And there's a lot of them. More than I can detail here. I don't know what I've done to deserve them, but I'll just say that this is the rare occasion I will say the word, "blessed" is about the only one that fits. The Showgirls let me in back on our FOB-JEK days and I've been grateful ever since. I'm not sure our waitstaff is ever as pleased as we are to spend an evening together, but we do have fun. Thank you, MadDawg Madison. Please let us come back... My Bunco Club hasn't rolled dice in months, if not years, but we don't let that get in the way of a good time. Again, I apologize to the crew that waited on us at Union Jack. Neither of these photos shows the whole crew, but I'm sure over the years, I've fully represented.  I'm feeling a little friend sentimental because I'm still a ...

 Jeff and Ali bought me a hibiscus last year for my birthday and while I didn't believe my neighbor that the beauty would return after Indiana's beast of a winter, she did. It's kind of glorious, which seems a little braggy, but I have very little to do with it, so I'm just going to say it: it's beautiful and I love it. A chipmunk also loves it and has a hole near it, which I've closed off with a stepping stone slab. I suspect there are other routes to whatever mansion the little rodent has created down there, but I don't want him damaging this plant's roots. The Captain had suggested flooding the little guy's home, but unless it does harm to the plant, I'm going to just make it inconvenient for him. My sister, Donnna, once poured gasoline into some groundhog holes in her yard and torched the poor suckers, who had been pillaging Donna's vegetable garden.  I didn't tell PETA, and I'm sure the statute of limitations has expired on her v...

There's something charming about grown men gathering on a back porch oohing and aahing over the  souvenirs a friend has just brought back from vacation. Like moths to a flame, the beer nerds from central Indiana came buzzing to our house yesterday within minutes of Captain Reed parking his craft beer-laden Subaru. He'd driven to Maine and back on a circuitous route that took him to Fattey's Bottle Shop, the City Wine Merchant and Noble Root in Buffalo, NY, Fiden's Brewery in Albany, New York, Tree House Brewing in Charlton, Mass., the Armsby Abby and Austin Liquors in Worcester, Mass., RSVP Discount Liquors, Bow Street Liquors, the Bier Cellar and Allagash Brewing in Portland, Me., Maine Beer Company in Freeport, Hill Farmstead in Greensboro Bend, Vt, the Craftsbury Vermont "Genny," Freak Folk Brewing in Waterbury Village, the Stowe Public House in in Stowe, Vt., and the State Liquor Store/Beverage Warehouse in Winooski, Vt. Those were added to the assist fro...

 No one tells you when you buy a house of all the things that come with it. Sure, you're living the American Dream, and you can run around naked in all the rooms if you want. You get to decorate and clean it (or not) as you see fit, you can plant flowers and landscape to your heart (and budget's) content, and it can be a haven for when you need a break from the big, bad world. But they don't really talk about how much a new roof or appliances or furniture can cost.  And they for sure don't tell you that after 70 years of water running through galvanized pipes, this is what the inside of said pipe looks like. 🠊🠊🠊🠊🠊 I DID warn you. Gross right? Made me super grateful for the water filter we use to create drinking water.  We learned about it when we thought we were getting our water heaters inspected but ended up getting new pipes, a water softener and a tankless water heater.  It's part of our spring of super un-fun home improvement. Or, as James put it, "Na...

There's nothing like hearing a 6-foot-five-inch tall guy asking your daughter: "Can I get in your room so I can get my dress?" Ali and her roommate, Kevin, are in town for  PopCon , which is at the Indiana Convention Center - a venue I was at for a  decidedly different event  last week for work. Today is day two and a new costume change that entails wigs for both of them. Ali does the makeup for both of them. My niece, Becca, is getting in on the action, too, though her pharmacy rotation/work kept her from going the cosplay route.  The three of them came home last night loaded down with merch that one day they'll look at, shake their heads and laugh. But it'll be a good laugh with a flood of memories when they were carefree and able to be silly. Yesterday, at the event, people were asking if they could get their photos taken with Ali and Kevin - something a younger Ali and did at this same conference when she was deep into Dr. Who. Yesterday, Ali was dressed as ...

I started this blog as a weekly email to my mother-in law, so her Portland, Maine, residency would not keep her from keeping up with her granddaughter.  Marian adored getting the weekly photos of the rapidly growing redhead. She kept photos on rotation on her laptop and never failed to tell the latest story to whoever would listen.  We always knew Gary - Jeff, Jennifer and James' dad and Alison's grandpa -  liked the missives, too. But it wasn't until his passing that I realized he was as gabby about her and the rest of his family as she was. We said goodbye to Gary last week. Not the final goodbye, because that will come later when Jennifer and Peter, James and David, Jeff, Ali and I go back to Turks and Caicos to scatter a portion of his ashes in the place where he was the happiest (next perhaps to the horse track) after Marian's passing. Jeff gave a eulogy that any father would be proud to receive.  Together with other family members and many friends, we laughed. ...

A year ago, my sister, Donna, called. She was in tears. Which, if you know Donna, is a big-assed deal.  She had taken my sister, Diane (they are Nos. 1 and 2 in the hierarchy of my childhood) to the doctor. A self-described hypochondriac, Diane hadn't been feeling well for a while. It had gotten to the point where she stopped diagnosing herself and actually asked for professional help. Which, if you know Diana, is a big-assed deal.  After a short time in a doctor's office, she was routed to emergency surgery. The prognosis was terminal. Cancer. Ignored too long to fix. Once we heard, my sisters and a good portion of our nieces, gathered in the parking lot of Union Hospital. It was deep into COVID and only Donna could go inside. It was cold. But we were together, even if separated by by some brick and mortar. Yesterday, we celebrated a year of still having Diane with us. She's not running marathons or dancing on tables, but then again, she'd never run a marathon or dance...